Taking Control
by MyLittleStorys
Summary: Annie and Mitchell spend their first night together after George moves out. Say about S2.


**I wrote this for the Being Human Ficathon over on the LJ for the prompt "How do Annie and Mitchell spend their first night together after George moves out". Changed the title cos I like this one better hehe!**

* * *

With a practiced taping skill, the task was complete. The last of his belongings sealed into a perfectly packed box marked 'socks'. George cradled the box clumsily under one arm, nervously rattling his keys in his free hand.

"Well, that's the last of it" stated George as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, glancing round the living room for one last time.

Annie smiled warmly; George knew her too well though, it was a bluff. Saying goodbye to Mitchell had been ok; an awkward hug with genuine good wishes.

"I'm only thirty minutes away; I'll visit all the time. It'll be like I never left" said George, wanting to ease Annie's sadness.

"I know. At least there won't be as much hair to clean up after" scoffed Annie, with a casual flip of the hand.

George sucked in air as he spoke, twitching his eyebrows, "I am a very clean, considerate person thank you very much", receiving a look of disbelief from his ghostly friend.

"Seriously though, will you be ok?" asked George.

"Phhft yeah, of course! I was alone for a year before you guys came. I'll miss you, not your dodgy poems though" said Annie, shuffling George to the front door, "Come on, can't keep her waiting any longer".

The fading sunlight spilled into the hallway as the front door opened. George looked down at the keys held in his sweaty palm, questioning them silently.

"Keep them, just in case I'm not in. You never know, next week I could be in Rome!" said Annie, sensing his thoughts.

They shared a saddened look, knowing that would never be the case. Annie's fear wouldn't allow her to leave Bristol.

George juggled to balance the box as Annie squeezed into a tight bear hug. Any passer bys would not find George's rather odd posture suspicious, maybe just a little embarrassment. Since Annie was not visible to anyone else, the neighbours were used to Mitchell or himself acting a little strange to say the least.

Reluctantly taking a step down onto the street, he watched Sam sitting in her mum's car, speaking into her mobile, facing the opposite direction. This was his future now, no more hiding in misery; he couldn't let the wolf hold back his life.

He turned back to Annie with a last smile, she looked beautiful as the sun hit her, highlighting her cheekbones, "Goodbye then", and walked to the car.

* * *

"Good luck!" Annie called out, waving as the car drove away from the pink house.

Annie remained on the doorstep, smile fading only as the car reached beyond her sight. It was going to happen eventually thought Annie, and one day Mitchell would leave too. She'd be alone again. Of course she wanted her boys to be happy.

Slowly, Annie closed the door, a couple more hours and Mitchell would be back, and most likely sneak out for some vampire business. She hated _this_. Being here yet not being here, watching the world pass by through a glass window. Sykes had been right, what sort of existence was this? Annie was stuck in the border of two worlds. Passing over didn't really seem an option, _they_, wouldn't exactly welcome her with warm arms. So for the time being, she would spend her time idly standing by, waiting.

Ah well, she could go over and over her options, searching for nonexistent answers, ending only in frustration and tears. Anger brimmed inside Annie, she hated feeling weak, it reminded her of Owen. When George looked at her with pity, it made her angry with herself.

No longer in the mood for making her usual calming ritual of tea and coffee, Annie took to the kitchen sink and watched the world pass her by as the sun set.

* * *

The house was quiet when Mitchell returned, no music from the stereo, or the weakest link playing in the background. He edged his way into the kitchen, bag of guilty pleasures in one hand.

The entire house screamed empty, as though sensing one of the trio was missing. The house was linked to Annie and Mitchell guessed the atmosphere was a reflection of her emotions. Hopefully, Mitchell could turn that around tonight anyway. He hasn't exactly been friend of the year to Annie lately, and now he was going to use his best skills to plant a smile back on her face.

Mitchell was pretty sure this thing with Sam would be a phase; Nina would most likely always taint George's heart no matter what. George was just too stubborn to realise the obvious.

Clumsily searching for the light switch, the light revealed Annie standing in front of the sink, lost deep in troubled thoughts.

"Hey", Mitchell called softly, placing his bags on the table.

Swiping the corner of her eye Annie spun around to great him with a small smile, "Hi, how was work?".

Mitchell could tell she had been crying, hiding it the best she could.

"Really disgusting actually, lets just say people can be very creative" said Mitchell as he began to unpack the bag.

Annie's eyes sparkled as she spotted the bottle of wine, bubbling with the excitement of a toddler.

"What's that? You don't drink Rose" Annie asked, beginning to rake through the bags.

"Oh this? I thought we'd watch a little pride and prejudice, have a little wine, you know?" said Mitchell innocently, collecting a glass and snacks.

Annie eyed him suspiciously, cocking her head to one side, "Don't you have any vamp stuff do to?".

With his free hand, Mitchell tugged her hand to follow him into the living room, "You're stuck with me tonight I'm afraid".

The suspicion turned into a look of happiness as Mitchell dragged her to the couch, plonking her down as he set up his entertainment area.

"Have you ever lived by yourself before?" asked Annie, thudding pillows into a comfy setup.

Mitchell, twisted back to answer her, he always did enjoy their random shifts in conversation.

He thought seriously for a moment before answering, "No, not really. During the war we were bunkered together. And after, I was either travelling with Herrick or, you know…".

Mitchell paused, unsure how to word the fact his beds were his victims.

Annie seemed to understand, forming an 'oh' sound. Like George, Annie understood to an extent the history of his nature, maybe she didn't share the same understanding George gave him, having been killed by your fiancé. Either way, she accepted him for him.

Mitchell did not return Annie the question, knowing she'd been alone after death. The thought was horrendous, knowing she'd seen the corridor, believing know one would see her again. Annie was too full of life and love to deserve a punishment like that.

Settling onto the couch Mitchell poured himself a generous glass of wine.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Annie, sitting at the edge of the sofa, wringing her hands together.

Mitchell swirled the wine in the glass, noting the worry in her tone, "Absolutely. Look, George isn't in control of the wolf, and I'm pretty sure he pissed it off when he caged it."

He dipped his head lower to catch Annie's eye reassuringly, "You won't see any vamp stuff, and if you don't like it, just stop".

He did have better control of his nature, especially around Annie; her presence allowed him to be Mitchell, not John Mitchell the killer. She made him want to be a better person.

Mitchell grinned when Annie beamed a wide smile, clapping her hands and chirping "Okay!", giggling as she jogged behind the couch.

"Right, sit back and relax" spoke with an authority Mitchell easily obeyed, slouching into a comfortable position.

The gentle rest of Annie's cool hands on his forehead sent a refreshing chill down his spine; a mixture of unexpected excitement and the wakening of something he'd normally skimmed over and ignored.

Annie nudged his head slightly, indicating she was all set. Mitchell pictured her eyes closed tight and tongue sticking out in concentration. Gingerly, he took a sip of the floral flavoured Rose wine. Not exactly his wine taste, but he did recall Annie reminiscing about the wine during some summer outing. With the all clear he took another drink.

Mitchell strained to keep his mind on the wine, the flavour, the texture. Straining to diverge his thoughts from Annie's touch, exactly how he always imagined.

Regretfully her hands pulled back to rest on his shoulders, returning Mitchell to the present.

"Are you ok?" asked Mitchell, worried perhaps some horrid memory had escaped his mental block. The last thing he wanted was to frighten Annie.

To his surprise Annie hummed, tracing the couch headrest with her hand as she plopped down beside him, all grin and doe eyed.

"Oh I feel, brilliant. And a little tipsy," Annie laughed, face flushing a delicate shade of pink, "thank you!".

Mitchell could only laugh in return as he responded, eyes twinkling with mischief and astonishment by the new discovery, "I'm sure over a year without alcohol would have that effect. An effect we shall most definitely need to study further".

"Agreed," said Annie, shaking her head enthusiastically sending her brown curls into a bouncing frenzy, "now put the film on, Mr Darcy is waiting".

* * *

Normally, Pride and Prejudice would suck Annie deep into the world of Elizabeth Bennet, however her mind was set on one thing only; Mitchell.

Her previous trial of her new found skills on George had been dreadful, frightening her more so than her view of George's transformation. The wolf was enraged, uncontrollable, almost free, looming her thoughts as she watched her George, the harmless blump.

In concern to Mitchell, God she could taste the wine, so desperately envying for a chance to digest again. She could taste the desire in Mitchell as her hands rested on his forehead, briefly before Mitchell controlled himself. Annie knew what he had wanted; to feel her hands explore further, to kiss her.

Only she'd been a tad tipsy to really focus at the time. Ashamedly, Annie often wondered about their accidental kiss, in fairness, what else was there to ponder over the long boring days alone? And apparently, she was not the only one to ponder.

There had always been a thin line between Mitchell and her, separating friendship and something else. They shared the little touches, the looks lasting a little longer than normal. Maybe George leaving was an opportunity to test the waters?

It was easier to remove her Ugg boots than Annie imagined and she smiled triumphantly, wriggling her toes in their new found freedom, propped against the table.

Mitchell shifted beside her and from the corner of her eye, she caught him watching her feet rather intently, following the path of her semi exposed calves; etching details to his memory.

A rush of heat coursed through Annie's body, or maybe she imagined it, either way, she felt powerful. She never had this effect on a guy before and boy did it feel good.

She gave it about ten minutes before she pulled her cardigan off, revealing her white tank top. Her skin bristled against Mitchells bare arm, stirring him some more.

Mitchell remained silent, head facing the screen, yet his eyes seemed to dart to the side, digesting her sudden change in appearance. His hand twitched beside her wrist, breathing hitched for a millisecond.

One part of being a ghost which annoyed Annie greatly was the inability to change her clothing. At least, she thought, her last outfit had not been a hospital gown. She really did long to wear a dress, or something a tad more adventurous than grey. For the moment, this was satisfactory enough and she smiled, enjoying his reaction.

* * *

Mitchell's concentration on the film immediately fled the minute Annie removed her cardigan. Admittedly, he had often thought about what lay under the grey fabric, imagining the shape of her body. Those were the thoughts he tried to suppress normally and Annie was not making that easy for him.

The wine had loosened him up some and the sensation of Annie's cool skin slammed his thoughts into a realm of dizzying pleasure. Lost in wonder, Mitchell stammered when a small hand squeezed his own.

"What?" asked Mitchell, aware Annie had shifted to face him, head propped on one hand against the head rest.

"I said, do I feel like a ghost? You know cold and squishy?" repeated Annie, a coy smile playing on her lips.

"You're chilly, not uncomfortably cold, refreshing," replied Mitchell examining her hand with his hands, testing her solidity, "and actually, you feel more solid compared to before".

He probably should put a stop to his actions now, but he couldn't, tracing her hand allowed his dreams to become reality.

"Sometimes…most of the time, I wish I wasn't you know, dead", laughed Annie, "I don't want to loose my memory of how everything feels. That sounds a bit weird out loud". Annie scrunched her face.

Mitchell twisted round to face her, unconsciously moving closer to Annie. The vague smell of tea and rose struck his nostrils, watering his mouth.

"You don't have to loose anything, just remember how it felt before" said Mitchell, eyes trailing the curve of her shoulder.

Annie shifted closer, her breathe teasing Mitchells cheek as she spoke, "I want to feel it again, the excitement, the nerves, the pleasure".

Shakily, Annie placed her hands on either side of his head, "Will you let me? You can't hurt me Mitchell".

No was not an option; already a slave to his own desire and her awaiting lips, inches from his own.

Mitchell allowed Annie to pull his head lower slowly pressing her mouth against his, releasing all worry clear from his mind, drowning him in the sensation of Annie.

Unlike their accidental kiss, this held more power and pressure, no doubt Annie was definitely physical and warmer with each kiss. Mitchell wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing Annie closer to his body, pulling her legs over his lap.

He kept control of his hands, eager to explore her bare arms and semi-exposed legs. Frustratingly, Annie pulled back, proving she was in control of the situation, lips swollen and eyes sparkling.

"Does it feel real? If I concentrate, I feel everything, and it's easier after a while to focus" said Annie grinning like a cat who got the cream.

"Does it now?" replied Mitchell, planting slow precise kisses along her jaw, running down her smooth neck.

"You're a bit tingly, in a very good way, soft, and very much solid", spoke Mitchell between kisses, "you taste, like tea and rose".

Annie giggled, vibrating against his mouth, "Tea huh?" and tugged Mitchell to lie down.

This seductive, in complete control Annie, further amazed him; so beautiful and stronger than she believed. Mitchell could get used to this.

* * *

Annie lay beside Mitchell on the couch, head resting against his, smiling uncontrollably, twisting the rings on Mitchells hand.

"You know I'm never going to leave you, as long as you need me" stated Mitchell, twirling a curl of her hair around his finger.

"I know", replied Annie, relishing in his warm embrace, her little kissing session had zapped of her energy leaving her dozy and comfortable. Mitchell seemed to believe with time, she'd have more control and for now she quite happily lay with Mitchell, just the two of them.

The night flew by and as the morning sunlight rose, creeping into the living room the pair were still conversing, sharing stories, Annie in awe of the tales Mitchell retold. Her expressions spurred Mitchell on.

Glancing at the clock, Annie reluctantly uncurled from Mitchell's arms, stretching as she spoke, "Up you get, time for breakfast".

Mitchell groaned and dragged himself up; running a hand through his unruly hair, grinning at the look Annie was giving him.

"Shower first though" said Annie sternly, arms on her waist, forehead crinkled.

"Ok boss" laughed Mitchell, placing a quick peck on her check before running up the stairs.

Annie set straight to work on preparing breakfast, singing to herself, a little happy skip in every movement. As the eggs fried, Mitchell was leaning on the door, hair damp from his shower, watching her every motion.

Annie peeked over her shoulder, suddenly bashful, "Hey".

"Hey" replied Mitchell, strolling up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, "have I told you how beautiful you are?".

"I don't think you have actually" replied Annie, twisting around in his arms to face him, poking his nose.

"Hmm, well you are" stated Mitchell, running his hand across her cheek.

Annie dissolved into his kiss, a kiss becoming more intense, falling deeper into a state of pure bliss.

The couple vaguely heard the door lock jangle and the door slam shut, forcing them slowly to part with a shared confused expression.

George entered the kitchen, flustered, shaking of his jacket, taking no notice to the fact Mitchell was wrapped around a bemused Annie.

"Yes, I'm back, and yes Mitchell, you were right. Sam and I were a notion," said George scrunching his eyes closed as he scratched his head, "What's for breakfast?"

"Maybe we don't want you back George" chuckled Mitchell, still holding on to Annie.

Suddenly, the penny dropped and George stammered, pointing at Mitchell and then Annie, turning a shocking shade of red, "Wha-…what?".

Mitchell unclamped himself and walked over to George, patting him on the shoulder, guiding him to the chair before the poor guy fainted.

"It's something you'll need to get used to and welcome back" said Mitchell, winking at Annie as George shook his head.

Annie got back to work on breakfast setting an extra place for George.

What a funny trio they were indeed.


End file.
